


six to eight weeks

by halfeatenmoon



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Dramatic teens, Injury, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-13 02:01:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29270688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halfeatenmoon/pseuds/halfeatenmoon
Summary: Yuri is finally going to get to spend more than a day with Otabek when they're in the same tournament. Provided he doesn't break anything first.
Relationships: Otabek Altin/Yuri Plisetsky
Comments: 1
Kudos: 12
Collections: Chocolate Box - Round 6





	six to eight weeks

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Soulstoned](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Soulstoned/gifts).



Waiting for the Grand Prix assignments was always tense, but this year Yuri was even more wound up than usual. He was bouncing constantly between his phone, texting Otabek yet again to say _I hope we’re in the same group!!!_ again, and staring intently at the feed on his laptop to see whether this time, his name would come up.

It was giddily, embarrassingly thrilling to have a boyfriend. It was extremely difficult to have a boyfriend who loved him and lived in a different country. Yuri was young! He should be having trusts with his boyfriend after training every day! Instead they had to carefully plan every time they met around their respective training schedules and international borders. Otabek had once suggested that maybe they could skip some training to meet up and Yuri had almost dropped his phone in shock instead.

“I can’t _skip training_.”

“You left to stalk Viktor to Japan,” Otabek pointed out, neutrally.

“It’s not because I care about Viktor more than you!”

“Of course not,” Otabek said, without a hint of offence, but Yuri now had to make absolutely sure Otabek understood.

“I trained in Japan, too! And I went because I thought I needed Viktor. Running off to Japan was _for_ my training. But this year I need to beat him, and Katsuki, and I need every chance I can get.”

“I want nothing less for you,” Otabek murmured, in a way that made Yuri’s cheek’s flush. “When we see each other once more, we’ll skate together, and push each other to even greater heights.”

“Yeah,” Yuri said, breathlessly. “I can’t wait.”

And then, “We won’t _just_ skate, will we?”

If they could get assigned to the same Grand Prix tournament, they would be in the same city for entire days in a row. It would be the greatest thing that had happened in Yuri’s entire life, probably. He was getting more and more agitated as the announcements went on, though. Yuri’s name came up first, for Skate America, and then Otabek’s for Skate Canda, each without the other. But they both still had another draw to come. They could still match up. They hadn’t been called yet. They were going to get called, right? But the longer it went…

“Otabek Altin”, said the announcer pulling names for the Internationaux de France. Yuri was already dialing Otabek when he heard them call his name, too.

“We’re in!” he screeched, leaping off the couch and startling his grandfather. “Ah, sorry Grandpa!”

“Glad to see you had good news,” said Grandpa. But Yuri was already tuning out as he heard Otabek’s low reply.

“I can’t wait to see you,” Otabek was saying. “Do you think we could manage to go there early? Perhaps we could have a day or two to see the city together.”

“That would be amazing,” Yuri said, in a rush. “We would still have to practice of course…”

“Maybe we could practice at a rink somewhere. We could even just skate together for fun.”

“Fun?”

“Don’t you ever skate for fun?”

“Yeah… I mean I go to extra skates and try to outskate Viktor. That’s pretty fun.”

Otabek chuckled. “Always competing. I’m thinking of finding an outdoor rink, a frozen pond, maybe, and I could skate while I hold your hand.”

Yuri was glad this wasn't a video call so Otabek couldn’t see how much he was blushing. Grandpa probably thought Otabek was saying something dirty, but even that might be better than him realising Yuri as blushing this much about _holding hands_.

“That would be really cool,” he said, softly, and Otabek chuckled in return.

“Train hard, my love,” Otabek said.”I can’t wait to see you in Paris.”

Yuri came to the rink the next day with the utmost determination in his heart. He would skate hard. He would skate the best he ever had. He was going to defeat Katsuki, and Viktor, and all who stood before him, and he was going to do it in France, with Otabek.

When he stumbled on a jump and heard a crack as he landed, he didn’t feel the pain. He just felt odd. It was nothing, he was sure, excpet that he tried to stand up again and his ankle didn’t work.

“Oh Yurio, no!” said Katsuki, falling to his side. “Does it hurt? Stay there, we’ll get help.”

“It’s nothing. Idiot,” Yuri said. He tried to get up and shove him away only to find himself on his butt on the ice again. That was when he looked at his ankle, saw it twisted in the wrong direction, and realised this was probably not nothing.

“My ankle can’t be broken,” Yuri insisted, to the doctor. “I’m going to the Grand Prix. I have to compete in Skate America.”

“And you will. Next year.” She patted his knee. “We're going to take you into surgery to reset the bone, but it will just be a local anaesthetic. Luckily it's not too bad a break, so you'll just have minor surgery and then six to eight weeks in the cast.”

“I don’t want a cast. Yakov, tell her!”

The doctor left them to it as Yakov glared at Yuri.

“You must have patience. You will compete next year.”

“But Yakov!”

“You can’t argue your way out of a broken bone,” he snapped. “If you go out and skate on that, you’ll just fall, ruin your routine and break it even more seriously, and that will be the end of your career.”

“But Yakov…”

“You want to throw away your career, is that it?”

“I want to see Otabek.”

Yakov swore. “Love! You want to ruin your career for love? You’re a fool. Love will leave you soon enough and then where will you be?”

It was starting to sink in that Yuri’s Grand Prix spots, and probably his entire season, were over. Yakov was not helping in the slightest, though. Without any words to explain just what poor comfort it was to tell him that he and his boyfriend were going to break up anyway, Yuri threw a stuffed tiger at his head.

“Suit yourself,” Yakov grunted. “Don’t think this means you get to take it easy, though. When that cast is off I expect you to do your rehab as if you were marking your free program for Worlds.”

Yuri kept up his furious glare until Yakov left, and then slumped against the pillows. Then he sighed, and for the twentieth time that afternoon, picked up his phone and just stared at it. Every time he tried to call his boyfriend and tell him what happened, he found himself giving up instead. He wanted Otabek to tell him it was going to be okay. He was terrified of the disappointment he might hear in Otabek’s voice when Yuri said he wasn’t going to be at the tournament in France.

Because Yuri knew what else it meant to miss a whole season. No skating meant no money from sponsorships, no skating federation helping with his costs, nothing. There was no rule that said he couldn't go to France just to watch, except that it was all going to be out of their pockets. He wasn't sure he could dip into his savings and go to Paris if it was just to se his boyfriend.

Like it or not, his relationship, just like his lifestyle, was riding on his skating. Without that, there was nothing else they could do.

He stared at his phone, still with his thumb hovering over Otabek’s name. And then, as quickly as he could, he scrolled back to call Lilia instead.

“Yuratchka,” she said, briskly. “I’m told you broke an ankle?”

“Yes. And don’t you be mean to me as well.” He said, suddenly. “I wasn’t careless, Yakov should shut up.”

“Yakov only says things like that because when _he_ lost a season it was due to being a careless idiot,” Lilia said, which cheered Yuri up immensely. “Injuries will happen. You can try your best to prevent them, but they will happen to us all. It will hurt. You will heal. And if you use this well, it will make you stronger.”

“Lilia,” Yuri said, feeling tears threaten to choke him again. “Lilia, I know I will skate again, but the tournament… France…”

“Ah yes, your young man,” she said, regretfully.

“How can I tell him?”

“Just as you tell anyone else. Speak plainly. He will understand.”

“Yakov said I shouldn’t worry about it because love doesn’t last…”

“Again, Yakov is an idiot who should confine himself to commenting on your jumps,” she said. “Love is not such a flimsy thing. If this boy deserves you, even the slightest bit, then he will care for nothing but your wellbeing.”

Yuri sniffed. “It’s just hard. I see him so rarely as is, Lilia. Why are these obstacles in our way?”

“If love is true, it must test you,” she said, not unkindly. “If it tests you early in your love, then that is all the better. Then you will always know that your love can withstand anything.”

“You're the best, Lilia.” He looked up at the nurse waiting in the doorway. “I think I need to go.”

“Be strong, Yuratchka. I’ll see you soon.”

“You won’t be able to take the phone with you while they do your cast,” the nurse said.

Yuri rolled his eyes. Then he took a breath and looked down. He quickly typed out _got injured. Out for the season (((_ to Otabek and dropped his phone in the drawer.

“Okay, I’m ready,” he said. They took him down the hall and he immediately regretted sending the message, but it was too late to do anything now.

Yuri woke from the anaesthetic groggy and numb, and to five missed calls from Otabek plus a series of texts that mostly read _:(((((_ He swore and called Otabek back and discovered that the painkillers were starting to make it hard to hold a conversation.

“Yuri, I am so sorry,” Otabek said.

“It’s fine,” Yuri said. It was not fine but he wanted Otabek to feel better. And he was groggy enough that it kind of was fine.

“I won’t ask how long you’ll be off the ice. I know how painful it must be to even contemplate.”

Yuri deliberately didn’t think about all the different things people had said about the length of his recovery.

“It doesn’t matter how long.” He swallowed. “I’ll miss the Grand Prix. I’ll miss…” Oh crap, now he didn’t feel so ‘okay’ about it. “I’ll miss you.”

“Oh, Yuri,” Otabek said, so sadly that it made Yuri want to hang up on him so he didn’t have to hear it any more.

“I’ll miss you,” he said, again, and then the painkillers started to take him again and he drifted out again to the sound of Otabek’s soothing voice.

He was home that afternoon, and spent the next few days trapped on the couch at home, taking painkillers and eating as much as he wanted to. He did so particularly obnoxiously when Yuuri and Viktor came over and brought chocolate babka with them, too.

“If my season is over, I don’t need to keep to a nutrition plan,” he said, eating a fourth slice of babka while Yuuri and Viktor left their plates empty after one.

“You should keep in good shape for rehab,” said Viktor. “Otherwise you’ll fall behind us and you may never have a chance to catch up again.”

“Ignore him,” said Katsuki. “You have good reason to be sad. Eat as much babka as you want if it makes you feel better.”

Yuri put the last slice back.

Mostly he alternated between watching skating videos and wildlife documentaries, and snapping and then apologising to his Grandpa, who took it all in his stride. It was on the third day, that the door rang with a different visitor.

“Beka!” he yelped, when Otabek walked through the door.

He forgot himself and tried to leap up into his arms, then immediately toppled over. Otabek lunged forward, catching Yuri tightly to his chest. Then he tenderly picked Yuri up and placed him back on the couch.

“I’m so sorry,” he said. “I should have come sooner.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I feel terrible, leaving you here so long. I should have been here immediately.”

Yuri clasped Otabek’s hands in his. “No, I’m sure you couldn’t leave your training as quickly as that. It’s so important going into the Grand Prix. You have to win, even though I won’t be there.”

“It’s true. I must win for both of us now.” Otabek stared fiercely into his eyes. “But it was still torture every day that I wasn’t with you, knowing you were in such pain.”

“It must have been a long three days,” Yuri’s grandpa said, mildly. “I can assure you his pain relief is quite good.”

“It’s true, Beka. I may not be able to skate but I’m in very little pain now.”

Otabek shook his head sorrowfully. “But isn’t not skating the greatest pain of all?”

Yuri could feel himself tearing up. Finally someone understood. This was why he loved Otabek.

“This is why I love you so much,” he said, out loud.

Otabek kissed him then, as fiercely as he did everything else, and if Yuri weren’t already sitting down, he would have swooned.

Yuri’s grandpa cleared his throat and Yuri jerked his head back, blushing. Otabek looked as unruffled as ever, though he did say “I apologise for my indiscretion, sir.”

“No need to apologise,” Grandpa said. “I was just wondering whether you would like some coffee?”

Once grandpa had returned to the kitchen, Yuri sighed and leaned his head against Otabek’s shoulder. “It’s so good to see you.”

“It’s good to see you too,” Otabek said, and kissed the top of his head. He put his arm around Yuri’s shoulder and pulled him close. “Are you sure your leg is alright? I can massage you if you would like.”

For the first time, Yuri felt like perhaps there could be an upside to getting injured. “Not just now. I wish I were up to doing rehab already so I could do that with you, too. I suppose you can’t stay long.” He bit his lip. “The worst part isn’t not skating, it’s… it’s that we were going to a tournament together, and now…”

Otabek shifted slightly. “That’s one thing I wanted to talk to you about. Please, forgive me if this is too forward, but if you can’t train for some time anyway…”

“Yes?”

“Would you like to come and stay with me in Kazakhstan for a while? We have physiotherapists who can help with your rehab, too, and you can still observe some training if that would help. Although I understand if it would be too painful.”

Yuri gaped at him. “You? You think that _me_ watching _you_ would be too painful?”

“It must be sad to watch me skate, when we should be skating together…”

“Watching Katsudon and Viktor slobber all over each other during training is painful. Watching you practice would be… that would be an honour.”

The tips of Otabek’s ears had gone pink, Yuri realised, with no small amount of delight. He could make Otabek blush!

“The only thing is, I don’t know about… money. If I’m not competing I don’t have money for travel, so…”

“If you’re not going to Canada we can afford a lot more!” his grandpa said, from the kitchen, and Otabek jumped.

“I didn’t realise you were listening.”

Grandpa stuck his head in. “It’s the next room. You could hear the kettle boil, couldn’t you?”

Otabek was silent, but Yuri barely noticed. “Grandpa, do you mean it? I could go?”

"It would really cost very little," Otabek said. "You can stay at my house, and my family will provide all the food."

Grandpa nodded. “The cost is no more than Canada, and if it means you’ll be happy while you recover then I can’t see the problem. If you’re not staying in hotels, then…”

Yuri gripped Otabek’s shoulders. “I can come! When do you need to be back home? I’d better pack.”

Otabek rose, and abruptly picked Yuri up again. If anyone else tried such a thing, Yuri would kick them in the head, but as it was Otabek he just hung on.

“Point me to your bedroom,” Otabek said. “You should rest. I’ll pack your things. You just tell me what I need to do.”

He strode out of the door, leaving Yuri’s grandpa with three steaming cups of coffee.

"Do you want me to bring this in?" he shouted, but there was no reply except the sound of Yuri talking and Otabek stuffing clothing into a suitcase.


End file.
